Always have, always will
by gracelove
Summary: Continued from the second after the therapist asks, "Do you two still love each other?" Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Do you two still love each other?"

Rebas jaw dropped, as did the hand that was sliding her purse over her shoulder. Brock lifted his hands in the air and stared at her, as if she just might have the answer.

She did, but she couldn't give it. And it seemed that Barbara Jean walking through the door was a good thing for the first time she could remember.

"Hey, sorry I'm late! Oh, good, Reba, you're still here! C'mon, let's gain up on Brock – " she began, but was interrupted.

"Yes."

Everyone stared at Brock; Barbara Jean confused, Reba dumbfounded, the therapist understanding.

"What – you **want** us to gain up on you?" Barbara Jean snickered.

Brock stood and walked to his ex and spouse, looking Reba in the eye. "Reba, I still love you."

Reba was speechless, she just gaped. Finally she managed, "B-but, it's just the whole 'mother of my children' thing, not _in _love…"

Brock shook his head. "That would make it easier, Reba, but I am _in_ love with you."

Silence filled the room again. Barbara Jean was still holding Reba tightly to her side, and both were trying to process this as they stared, shocked, into his face.

Finally Barbara Jean dropped her arm. "Well…" she said, looking down. "Um…I should let the three of you handle this because obviously things are working out _fine!" _

She was about to leave before the therapist said, "Please – Barbara Jean, stay."

Barbara Jean paused with her foot out the door, then turned and slammed the door. "Fine. I'll stay."

"Thank you. Can we all sit down?"

Brock and Reba, still staring into each others faces, nodded and sat. The two sat on the couch, opposite ends with Reba closest to the therapist, Barbara Jean in the arm chair, and Brock in the middle of the two. Reba didn't want to look at Barbara Jean's face, because just from her voice she could hear the anger, hurt, shock...betrayel...that she had felt when she had been abandoned.

"Brock, you've just said you still love Reba. Reba, have you anything to say to that?"

Reba looked at him, then Brock, then back. She really couldn't think of anything. "I…I don't know what to say, I mean…"

"Well, Brock answered the question, how about you?" he pressed.

Reba did her quick glance around the room, this time catching Barbara Jean's eye. Bad idea. She could have answered with complete honesty if she hadn't seen the pain etched behind those eyes. She knew that pain - knew what it was like to be told that who she loved didn't want her anymore.

She took a deep breath. "I don't know," she lied.

"You don't know?" he repeated.

"That's right…I'm not sure yet."

Pause again. "Can you try to explain what you mean?"

Reba stood and began to pace again. She did her best thinking moving around, and tried to focus on anything but the three pairs of eyes following her.

"Look…it's hard for me to really delve into these kind of feelings with Barbara Jean in the picture. I've been avoiding anything like this ever since the divorce, so something like this wouldn't happen!"

"But obviously, something is happening now, regardless. Now might be a good time to confront it. Do you still have feelings, then?"

Reba sighed again. She hated sharing so much pain to so many people. And she'd only meant to come down and yell at this man…now she was receiving counseling and discussing whether she and Brock still loved each other?

"I…" she began. The room tensed. "Need time." She finished. "I know it's unfair, and I don't mean to walk out with unanswered questions, but I'm really not ready."

"You can't leave!" Barbara Jean burst. She looked more angry and hurt than Reba had ever seen her. "Not when my husband is in love with you and not me!"

"BJ, I didn't say I don't love you-"

She stood, leaning over her husband and pointing to Reba. "No, you said you love Reba, and that's just about as close as you can get to saying you don't love me! If anyone is leaving, I am! And Brock, when you get home, Henry and I _won't_ be there."

She picked up her purse and headed for the door. Turning, she finished, "See you next week," glared at Brock, and was gone.

Reba gaped at where Barbara Jean had been, then at Brock. 'This is great, just great!' she thought, but was too flabbergasted to utter a sound. Besides, she would have...had...done the same thing.

The therapist sighed, standing. "I think this is where we should end it today – we did get a lot out in the open. Reba, can you try to have an answer somewhat ready by next week?"

Reba still couldn't speak. She just nodded, and was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two Chapter Two

"Mom? Mom, what's the matter?"

Reba jumped. She was in the kitchen, sitting on a stool, her chin on her fist. Cheyenne and Van were in front of her, Cheyenne waving her hand in front of her face.

"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing's the matter!"

"Mrs. H, you suck at lying," Van laughed. Reba glared, and he shut up.

"Where have you been all afternoon?" Cheyenne asked, sitting herself and Van at the table.

"I was at your Dad and Barbara Jean's counseling session. Not fun," she assured them.

"Did something happen?"

Reba nodded. "I guess you could say that…"

"Between Dad and Barbara Jean?" Cheyenne pressed.

"Between all of us," Reba sighed, wondering how to explain without giving it all away. "They're separated, BJ moved out with Henry."

"Oh, that's terrible!" Cheyenne brought her hands to her mouth. "Well is she coming here? Did you ask her?"

"No…" Reba admitted.

"Mom!" Cheyenne groaned. "You're her only friend, you should have asked her!"

"Wait – are you two in a fight?" Van asked.

Rebas head snapped up. "Why would you ask something silly like that?"

"Because Barbara Jean wouldn't wait for an invite – she'd just come on over! Did you call her a mean name?" Van scolded.

"No!"

"Then why isn't she sitting here making your life Hell?" Van demanded, Cheyenne nodding along.

Reba sighed. "We did…hypothetically…kinda-sorta…get in a fight…in a way…but Brock started it!" she finished strong.

"Mom, what went on in there? Tell us now!"

Reba began to feel like she had when she was eight and gotten her siblings distracted in a fight so that she could steal their cookies. She began to go very red and looked at her lap while these teenage-parents stared her down.

"Barbara Jean is mad at me because Brock claims to still have feelings for me," she finally let out. Van and Cheyenne's jaws dropped.

"WHAT?"

"Well, you wanted the truth!" Reba defended herself, scooting back into the kitchen island.

"And what did you say?" Cheyenne demanded.

"Well, what was I supposed to? I didn't really say anything – I just said I wasn't sure how I felt!"

"Mom, go talk to Dad." Cheyenne ordered, pointing to the door.

"But..!" Reba began, but then Cheyenne was on her feet, hands on her hips, giving her 'the look'.

Van joined in. Positioning himself exactly like his wife, he said, "Now!"

Reba stuck out her tongue as she left into the early evening.

As much as she hated this, she knew they were right and that's what kept her walking to Brocks.

Now she was at his back door. Reba stared at her feet. This would be hard, but she tried to stay calm. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, and opened it.

Brock was sitting at the counter, staring at a bottle of beer in his hand. He did a double-take as he noticed who had just walked in.

"Reba…"he began to stand up, but she held up her hand.

"Shut up, sit down, and get me a beer," Reba instructed and sat across from him. He smiled grimly.

"This is the last one."

"How could you drink every beer in-"

"I _didn't_ drink every single one, there's such a thing as running low!" Brock snapped.

Reba took a calming breath and said, "Fine. Okay, look, Brock – the marriage counselor may think the door will never be gone, but I say differently."

"Reba, the man graduated from Harvard, he's majored in this kind of stuff."

"Well, I was married to you for twenty years, I've majored in your kind of stuff! And here's how it goes: _We cannot work_ – we tried, we really did, but the reason we couldn't work is walking away from you and I think you need to go after her!" Reba begged.

Brock shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"No, I don't! But that only makes me more frustrated! Brock, when are you gonna make up your mind!"

"As soon as you tell me that you don't love me."

Reba stared at him, her chest heaving. How could this be put on her? Why did their marriage depend on her – why was _she_ the other woman now? Why did Brock always have to make things so difficult, change his mind, break up family?

Reba sighed, staring at her lap. "Brock there's no reason for it to come to that."

"There is every reason for it to come to that, that's why BJ's mad! Now, do you love me or not?"

Reba looked straight in his eyes, and wasn't prepared. The conflict swarmed her.

She could see the years of love they'd shared, cherished. How she had woken up every single morning in his arms, seen the light shining on them. The children they had raised, the smiles, the tears of joy. How he had held her and they'd created so many memories…before he'd hurt her.

Then she saw how he'd displayed his new ardent affections for Barbara Jean, in front of her. He'd cheated, lied, had such little respect for her feelings. He'd left her when she needed him so much, left her hanging, still loving him….she knew she hadn't moved on yet from that yet, and she didn't need another setback.

Now he was asking her if she still did love him. And she knew the answer, the cold answer that had sat undisturbed in a dark place for years now.

Finally, she spoke. "I promised I always would…but if I could take that back…." She began to choke up and looked away.

He understood: She did love him. She'd always loved him, always would, but didn't want to. The kind of love she'd sworn was unconditional, but involuntary. And now she felt like it was all wasted…on _him. _

"Can you believe that I understand what you mean?" Brock asked quietly. "I know that you could – you should – hate me, and I always thought that you did. But can you believe that I never let go either?"

"You did, Brock. You let go. But a piece of me fell with you somehow," Reba sighed.

"So, in a sense…we're still together?"

"But we shouldn't be."

"No."

Each took a break from speaking, avoiding eye contact. Finally Reba asked, "What now?"

"Nothing. Not yet. We bring it up in counseling." Brock answered, shrugging.

"You mean, go back? You honestly think that man can help? Brock, his job was to get you and Barbara Jean back together, not get us…you know!" Reba reminded him.

"His job was to find any problems and helps us with them." Brock corrected.

"Oh…then I guess he was right about me."

"Huh?"

"I am your guys' biggest issue," Reba sighed. "Just not for the reasons he mentioned."

"He never said that – he said that you might be making things harder for us because you were my ex," again Brock corrected.

"Well…okay, I'll go back." Reba agreed. "Now I better leave, Cheyenne and Van will burst in any second if I'm not home soon." She stood and walked to the door.

"Wait!" Brock stopped her and hurried to her side. "Look…can I sleep over at yours tonight?"

"Why?" Reba joined her eyebrows together.

"I…Reba, I know it's silly, but I can't imagine staying here alone. If you don't want me to, that's fine, but if I could just crash on the couch that'd be great…"

Reba huffed, knotting her eyebrows together. Then she said, "Fine, c'mon over. But…" she paused before letting them both out the door. "Don't mention anything to the kids about all this…it shouldn't involve them."

Brock nodded, then remembered. "Kyra! Look, I'll be over there in a few minutes with her – she'll understand."

Reba cocked her head as Panic! At the disco began to blare from Kyra's room. She actually laughed. "Yeah, that's our angel, always understanding." She was still chuckling as Brock shut the door behind her.

Even though it had hurt to bring up her feelings again, letting Brock know had somehow raised an enormous burden from her mind. Rising with it, however, was a million problems and questions.

And one problem was standing, blonde haired and 5'10" tall, at her front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three Chapter Three

"Barbara Jean?" Reba asked, wondering how this day could get any worse.

Barbara Jean, who was pacing the porch, tears staining her rosy cheeks. When she saw Reba, she ceased her pacing and let her hands fall to her thighs.

"Reba, we need to talk," she sighed, sitting on the porch swing.

"Please, I've had enough talking for one day," Reba protested, holding up a hand.

"I don't _want_ to talk, Reba. But we should, this can't go undisturbed – I know you talked to Brock already, so you might as well talk to me."

"Barbara Jean, isn't the point of a marriage counselor not having to have these discussions on our own time?" But Barbara Jean didn't budge, and Reba couldn't say no. She sighed and sat next to her.

"Look, I know that you're just as unprepared as I am for this-" Reba began, but Barbara Jean cut her off.

"You aren't unprepared! And neither am I! Reba, it's totally obvious that Brock always loved you!"

"If you're so prepared, why did you act so shocked?" Reba shot back.

"I didn't think he'd actually come out in say it – at least not just so abruptly! And what do you mean, you didn't know?"

"Yeah, I just figured he loved me so much, he decided to leave me!" Reba snapped sarcastically, standing. "Barbara Jean, I had no idea. I honestly didn't think he felt the same way I did!"

Reba resisted a strong urge to cover her mouth with her hand. "Craap..!" she growled.

Barbara Jean, however, didn't look as surprised as Reba thought she would be. True, her eyebrows shot up about two inches, but other than that she made no gesture to say that she hadn't suspected it.

"Yeah…I suppose you knew that, too?"

"Oh, please, Reba, who doesn't?" Barbara Jean snorted, standing next to her.

"Gee, thanks." Reba muttered. "Barbara Jean, what is supposed to be worked out tonight? Really, nothing can be!"

"Really? You really think that anything you or Brock say is going to change my mind? I'm filing for divorce, Reba."

A silence fell over them like a blanket. She can't be serious, Reba thought desperately. No…she can't…

"Barbara Jean, what? You can't honestly think that something can happen between Brock and I!"

"Oh, I honestly do!" Barbara Jean laughed mirthlessly. "But even if I didn't, I can't stay with Brock when he's in love with his ex wife."

"Don't you love him?" Reba stared incredulously.

"Yes, but…" she shook her head, staring out across the lawn. Finally she took a deep breath and looked back at her friend. "You know how you mistook what Brock meant about loving you – the whole 'mother of your child', thing? It's like that. He's the father of my child, someone I've spent seven years with, but I'm not complete. I thought we'd build something that we could call love…but it isn't, it wasn't. Now it's just nothing. Reba he loves you, and that won't change. Nothing will change. It's over."

Reba couldn't speak. She just nodded, then put her arms around her. "I'm sorry, Barbara Jean. I truly am…"

Barbara Jean was starting to cry. "I believe you, Reba. You still are my best friend."

"Okay!" Reba broke the embrace. That was just a little too much for her to handle. But remembering what Van and Cheyenne had brought up, she said:

"Barbara Jean, would you and Henry like to stay over tonight? There's an extra bed in Kyra's room and Henry can sleep in Jake's room."

"It's all right, Reba, I've already checked into a hotel. For once I think I want to be alone," Barbara Jean sadly smiled. Reba tried to smile back, but realized that she didn't like this serious, unhappy side of Barbara Jean any more than the perky annoying one. Surely part of this woman had to be likeable…?

But I do like her, Reba thought as she and Henry drove away. I do. Not to a point where I'd actually consider saying that aloud, but she's actually a really sweet, kind, gracious…

"Okay, enough sentiment already!" she told herself aloud and walked indoors.

Cheyenne, Van, Jake and Elizabeth were sitting on the couch, watching TV. Noticing Reba enter, Cheyenne and Van exchanged a meaningful look before saying, "Hey, Mom, how'd it go?"

Reba pointed to Jake. Taking the hint, Van suggested to his brother-in-law, "Say, Jakey, how about you go upstairs and play that Gameboy?"

"Good idea, this show sucks!" he readily agreed, racing up the stairs.

"Well?" Cheyenne asked as Van turned off the TV and Reba sat in the armchair.

"He'll be over here tonight, he doesn't want to stay there. Kyra and him will be over soon."

"And…?"

Reba decided to play dumb. "And…he'll sleep on the couch and Kyra will be in her own room."

"Mom, you know that's not what we meant. I mean did you tell him if you love him or not?"

"Yeah, I told him." Reba answered, looking at her lap.

"Oh, good, what was the answer? Psst, Cheyenne!" Van leaned towards his wife. "Pretend to be surprised!"

"That's between the two of us," she stood and began to climb the stairs. "I'm gonna get some sheets and blankets – you two, do something to make yourselves look innocent."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Cheyenne muttered, "The answer was _so-totally_ yes."

"Yeah, ya think?"

That night Reba couldn't sleep. It was good having the whole family under one roof again, and she did sometimes doze off for a few seconds. But she would then slip into too good of a family-dream and reach for the other side of the bed for Brock. Once her hand fell on empty sheets, she would jerk awake.

She'd often had these kinds of nights, which had usually been the follow-up of a very good day that reminded her of the days when she and Brock were together. Her usual solution was to go downstairs and watch a gory movie, but Brock was on the couch tonight.

Even so, she could go down and get something sweet to munch on. Pulling a satin robe over her nighty, she headed downstairs.

To her surprise, the TV was on, and Brock was watching _Finding Nemo_

"_Stop!" Dory cried. "Please don't go away…no one's ever stuck with me for so long before…with you…I mean, I remember things better with you! See, P Sherman 42…40…2...it's in there! I know it's there- because when I look at you, I can feel it. And when I look at you…I'm home!_

_Please don't go away…I don't wanna forget…!"_

"_I'm sorry, Dory. But I…do." _

Reba could not believe that Brock was watching this, or even why she was starting to feel teary eyed. How could Marlin do that to Dory? She loved him so much, was better with him, she'd been abandoned…where was his heart?

"It's dumb!" she heard Brock mutter and change the channel. Reba chuckled. Brock always claimed something was dumb when it made him emotional.

"Yeah…" she agreed aloud. Brock jumped, he hadn't noticed her standing behind him. Reba jumped as well at his sudden movement.

"Oh, Reba… I couldn't sleep." Brock said.

"Me either," Reba confessed. To avoid the uncomfortable silence she asked, " Want something to eat or something, which's what I'm going to get."

"Sure, I'll come with you," Brock stood and followed Reba, and had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. She was just as lovely in a nightdress, and he remembered this one.

"I got you those," he suddenly remembered.

"What?" Reba asked, flicking the light on.

"Those pajamas."

"Yeah, I guess you did," Reba tried not to let him see her blushing as she turned and pulled an upside-down bowl off of a plate of chocolate cake. "Ironic."

She cut the cake into two slices and set them on plates. They sat down together at the table and ate in silence, each wanting to say something that would lighten the mood.

Finally, Reba spoke. "Cheyenne and Van know something's going on. I had to tell them why you were staying over – they may be uneducated but they aren't idiots."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Kyra suspects something. She didn't ask why we were coming here, just muttered something about 'mid-life crisis part two' and went along with everything."

Reba smiled. "She really is a smart one. At least we know this daughter has plans, even if she is the most rebellious."

"And I wonder where she got that?" Brock said sarcastically, looking pointedly at Reba, who smiled sheepishly. "Really, I bet she'll be just like you."

"And Cheyenne is just like you…vain and everything," Reba teased. "Who's Jake gonna take after?"

They both sat for a minute in silence. Finally Reba muttered, "Maybe if he hadn't been introduced to Barbara Jean so early in life…"

"I'm sorry, okay!" Brock burst.

Reba was puzzled for a moment. She had forgotten about the separation – she had meant to make a funny. Being with Brock brought out her happy side. Once it sunk in that she had brought up something painful, however, she went red. "I'm sorry, Brock, I didn't mean to-"

"Forget it, it's not your fault."

Reba gaped, incredulous. "Not my fault?" she repeated. "Brock, this whole thing is my fault! If it weren't for me, Barbara Jean and you would still be together!"

"That's not fair to you – if it weren't for Barbara Jean, we'd still be together. It's my fault."

"Maybe it used to be, but your therapist was right. I'm causing all of these problems by just being around you! I could've tried to keep you away from me, Barbara Jean or no Barbara Jean, but seeing you was the best part of my day, and I just couldn't change that! It's my fault we all of a sudden love each other again." Reba had stood and was holding the island for support. All this guilt that had been bottled up for so long was pouring out too smoothly.

She didn't hear Brock get up, but the next thing she knew she turned around and he was holding her. His arms were wrapped tightly around her slender waist, and hers were around his. It was obvious he'd been working out, which made it so much more fun to feel him close to her.

Brock kissed the top of Rebas head. "Calm down, Reba. You know why it's not your fault? Because…you couldn't have kept me away. Seeing you was like waking up, I _had_ to in order to know I was still alive. You could have locked every door, closed every window and hid, and I would have found a way in because I would after something I wanted and needed."

Reba could feel tears building up behind her closed eyes. She kept them closed until she felt them slide back down to where they came from and whispered, "I love you, Brock."

"I love you."

She felt him pull from her slightly, then look into her eyes as her tilted her chin, hesitated, and pressed his lips to hers.

Reba woke very suddenly. It was morning…it was all a dream.

She wasn't sure if she was happy or disappointed. In some ways she thought it was better that they hadn't talked last night, in some ways it was very rude to give her such a happy ending then take it away. She could clearly remember the kiss, and pressed her fingers to her lips. No, it can't have happened anyway.

"Morning, Mom," Cheyenne greeted her as she walked into the kitchen. She and Van were seeing what movies were playing over the counter.

"Morning…" Reba replied quietly. She could barely speak.

Two plates with cake crumbs were sitting on the table, exactly where they had been sitting in her dream…

Giving her head a livid shake, Reba gave them an excuse. "You two – how many times do I have to tell you to clear your plates?" she complained, stacking them and starting to carry them to the sink.

"We didn't have cake!" Van protested.

Reba dropped the plates. They shattered to pieces as they fell at her feet.

"Mom!" Cheyenne cried, looking over her shoulder to see what had happened. "Are you okay?"

"Just because we didn't have cake you don't have to smash plates about it…wait, are you hungover?" Van asked suspiciously.

Reba shook her head, still staring at a blank space of air in front of her.

"Craap!" she moaned, still not looking away.

"Mom, what is wrong?" Cheyenne demanded.

"I…broke plates?" It was more of a question.

"But why? You sure you aren't hungover – need an aspirin?"

"No, I'm not hungover!" Reba snapped. "But I thought it was a dream! Great, now I gotta clean these up…" she started for the living room to grab the broom from next to the door when she bumped front-first into Brock, just like they had at couples therapy. His hands shot up to her waist so as to keep their balance.

"..morning, Reba-" he began, but she quickly broke away from his arms and hurried to her prior destination.

"What's the matter with her?" Brock asked. "And what's with the glass on the floor?"

"Oh, nothing. Mom just got hammered last night, don't ask me why. Anyway she's been throwing plates, muttering, staring into space, ya know."

"Hammered?" Brock stared after her. Looking back at his daughter, he said, "There's no way she could have gotten anywhere near booze last night, I would have…heard her."

He knew she couldn't be hungover, because she hadn't had anything to drink last night. She and him had fallen asleep watching the rest of _Finding Nemo_ on the couch last night, and he had carried her up to her room when she was still sleeping.

Why did she have to hide everything about him? Would she really rather have been drunk than with him last night?

He faced her as she walked into the kitchen with a broom and dustpan. "Reba, why did you tell them you were drunk last night?'

"I didn't!" Reba argued, glaring at her daughter. "That's messed up, Cheyenne, I told you I wasn't hungover!"

"Mom, you're hungover?" Kyra asked, stepping into the kitchen.

"NO!" Reba groaned, made a frustrated "UGH!" and whacked Van over the head with the dustpan.

"Geeze, you don't have to get violent!" Van complained, rubbing where she hit him.

"She's always violent," Kyra pointed out. Reba turned to glare at her daughter before scooping up the shards of glass.

"Gosh, wish I'd dreamed about getting drunk last night, maybe I'd feel better this morning!"

"Is this what you're mad about, you had a bad dream?" Cheyenne questioned, puzzled.

Reba gave Brock the tiniest of glances, but he caught what was bothering her – she thought it had been a dream. He understood – he thought it might have been until he saw her lying next to him on the couch. But she hadn't woken up – she really thought it had all been a dream. But obviously the cake plates had jolted her to realize it hadn't been.

"Yes." Reba answered shortly. Then she started to make herself breakfast, pretending that she Brocks eyes weren't following her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"So, you really thought it was a dream, then?" Brock asked the moment he and Reba were alone again. It was a few hours later. Van and Cheyenne were upstairs getting themselves and Elizabeth ready for a day at the lunch at the mall and going to see a movie. Kyra had plans with her band members, and Jake was going to try to beat up the girl down the road who liked him. Everyone had already made a bet that he would lose.

"Yeah, I did," Reba admitted sheepishly, wiping down the counters. Throwing the dish clothe in the sink she added, "I would have been immediately glad that it wasn't, but it came as a shock. Plus I couldn't just act happy in front of Van and Cheyenne."

"Yeah, if you were pleasant in the morning, they'd know something was wrong with you" Brock teased. Reba shot him what would have been a glare if she wasn't smiling.

"So, you wanna go somewhere today, hang out, get something to eat later?" Brock asked.

Reba bit her lip. "I…are you sure that's a good idea, to really be open about our…relationship, if that's what you call it?"

"What are you afraid of?" Brock frowned.

"Brock, what is the matter with you?"

He was taken aback. "Huh?"

"Don't you see – this is exactly what you always do. You get separated, next thing you know you're with someone new."

"But you aren't someone new, you're…you're my new-past girlfriend." He stated decidedly.

Reba couldn't stifle the giggle. She laughed and put her one hand on Brock's face, kissing his cheek. "That's sweet Brock…I'm your new-past girlfriend. It has a ring to it."

He put his arms around her and sighed. "I wouldn't have left you…I really wouldn't have. I just wish I'd kept you when I had the chance." Suddenly he held her at arms length and looked her in the eye.

"Reba, I'm not gonna make you do something you think is a mistake. But if you can give me just one last chance, if you can find it in your heart to give us another try…I wouldn't waste it. And I'm not ashamed to say that I do love you, Reba. I always have, I always will. If I have to tell you that every day, that's what I'll do, but I won't let go. You said it yourself: We're still together somehow. Whether the world sees it as right or wrong is up to them – I don't care what anyone thinks. Only you."

Reba couldn't hold back these tears of joy if her life depended on it. She closed her eyes and fell into his chest, silently crying. She felt his fingers wipe away the tears on her cheeks and smiled.

After a minute of holding her, Brock picked her up around the waist and set her on the kitchen island. Beaming up at her he asked, "So, do we have a lunch date?"

Reba started laughing. "All that romantic talk for a lunch date?" she teased.

"I wasn't talking about just one lunch date. I'm expecting to have you for every breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of your life," he smiled, kissing her. "And be punctual about it."

She kissed him back, then broke away to say, "All right, sounds good."

He laughed as he sat next to her on the island. "So…there's still the issue of the kids…how should we bring this up?"

"After counseling." Reba said simply. "As much as I'm not looking forward to it, it should bring out plenty of good results."

"I just hope Barbara Jean will take the news that I want a divorce okay," Brock sighed. "It'll be hard on her, I hate to do it."

"Were _you_ hammered last night – I told you that Barbara Jean was filing for divorce!" she reminded him. "I'm more worried about how she'll take…us. Boy, makes me wish we just had the kids to worry about."

It was Brocks turn to remind Reba of a certain detail ."Were you in the room when said I loved you in front of Barbara Jean? And everyone knows you never got over me."

"And how's that?" Reba snorted. "Brock I could be an actress after this charade of 'moved on and over it'." She held quotes around her head.

"Yeah, you were pretty good," Brock admitted. "Except that wasn't acting –that was flirting with a really mean sense of humor."

"Oh, get real, Brock." Reba gave him what she thought was a small push. But she didn't know her own strength, and he toppled to the floor just as Kyra walked in the back door with her band.

"BROCK!" Reba gasped and quickly jumped down from the counter. But he was laughing, and soon she was as well. After taking in the violent scene, Kyra and her band joined in.

Reba and Brock held their stomachs as they stood up and greeted the band. "Hi – sorry about that, we just..!" But they were overcome by giggles again and had to clutch the island for support.

"Dude, your parents are awesome. My mom never has the guts to push him off high places," a boy with choppy Emo-hair and skinny jeans praised Kyra.

"Yeah…it's great," Kyra, who was still smiling, said, "So, Mom, practicing for when your both on a cliff? Advice: Don't try to catch him when that time comes. It might defeat the purpose."

"Okay!" Reba managed through gasps.

"Okay…what say we go to Petes house for lunch?" Kyra muttered, and the band nodded in agreement. Soon Brock and Reba were alone again, but –

"Mom, Dad? What's wrong?" it was Cheyenne, come from upstairs and holding a very hyper Elizabeth. Reba and Brock were starting to calm down.

Their daughter, however, took one look at their breathless state and mussed up hair and clothes and mistook what they meant.

"Were you guys making out?" she freaked.

"No!" the two immediately sobered up.

"Then what's with-?"

"I pushed your Dad off the counter." Reba explained. They looked at each other and started laughing again. As if anyone would believe that if they hadn't seen it.

Cheyenne just stood there, watching them for a moment, lips forming a small "O", eyes looking down and flicking back and forth horizontally. Finally she looked back at her laughing parents, tried to say something, shook her head, and left. She was calling "Van! We're moving! Don't ask, just find your pants and lets live at the mall!"

When Van and Cheyenne left and they were finally alone, Brock asked Reba, "So, you ready? I, for one, am starving."

"Just give me a few minutes, Come on up, I'm not afraid to let you watch me put on a bit of make up and do my hair."

Brock followed her upstairs, but shook her head as she started to put on make up. She didn't have a single flaw, and he loved her hair just the way it was. It was rather curly today, not flipped out. Before she could turn on a curling iron, he put his hand over hers.

"Don't – it looks fine. It reminds me of the curls in that big hair you used to have," he begged.

Reba laughed as she remembered that hair. She'd always kept up with the best styles.

"All right. Can I at least spray it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, if you do I can't run my fingers through it as well." Reba smiled and nodded, then leaned forward to finish her make up.

Reba and Brock decided to walk downtown for lunch, and held hands the whole way. They were smiling the whole way, and never stopped.

After their lunch date they were walking home when they happened to pass Jake at his friends house.

Jake's friend, Bethany, looked up from burying him in her little brothers sandbox and saw them. "Jake, is that your mom with your dad?"

Jake sighed. He really was getting annoyed, because he really thought that he had this girl pinned until she flipped him over and started burying him. "I don't know, Beth, I'm stuck."

"Okay I'll describe.," Bethany squinted. "The girl has red curly hair, the boy has an orange tan –"

"Yeah, that's them. Why, are they coming over here?"

"No, they're going into your house. And holding hands…and she just kissed him, or did he kiss her?"

"WHAT?" Jake broke free of the sand. The little girl glared at him as she watched the sand slide off of him.

"JAKE YOU BUTTHEAD, THAT TOOK ME FOREVER! YOU LAY BACK DOWN BEFORE _I KISS YOU_!" she yelled. Frightened, Jake slapped back down on the sand. Bethany was actually disappointed; she didn't want him to lay back down.

Back at home, Reba and Brock were cuddling on the couch. "Thanks for lunch, Brock. That was a lot of fun."

"No problem, thanks for coming. So you don't mind being seen publicly with me?"

"…Under one condition," Reba said after a moment of thought.

"What's that?" Brock asked, puzzled.

"You have to promise that we don't tell the kids anything that's going on until we've talked to the counselor more."

Brock hesitated. "That seems fair. And right."

"Goody, I'm glad." She leaned in, pulling him in by then neck with her hand. She kissed the other side of his neck, then moved to his lips.

The door burst open. There was a scream and Brock and Reba broke apart.

"…and impossible." Brock continued his earlier statement.

"Cheyenne, what are you doing here so early?" Reba began to blush. Cheyenne was still holding the doorknob for support.

"Well, we came back to get a shirt Van wants to return – never mind that, though!" she slammed the door and folded her arms across her chest. "What are you two doing?"

"Cuddling," Reba smiled innocently, snuggling closer to Brock but still smiling sheepishly at her daughter.

"Wait – you're having an _affair!" _Cheyenne yelled. "Dad, you're cheating on Barbara Jean!"

"She was filing for divorce before we started kissing," Brock defended.

"Wait – you're getting a divorce, why?"

"Sit down, Cheyenne," Brock sighed. After a pause while Cheyenne decided whether she should listen or not, she chose the former, and sat in an armchair.

"Look, Reba, BJ and I were all at the counseling session yesterday when I said I…still love Reba," Brock began. "Last night Reba told me she felt the same way. It's starting to work itself out- I made a misinterpretation of love. Barbara Jean and I got married for the wrong reasons, and now we're trying to fix what was broken up."

"But…it was starting to work! It really was!" Cheyenne had tears in her eyes. "Do you know how bad you hurt Mom, Dad?"

"Cheyenne-" Reba protested, but Cheyenne cut her off.

"No, Mom! Did you tell him?" Cheyenne was on her feet. "Did you tell him that you woke up screaming for the next month? Did you tell him that when you said you were in the bathroom you were sitting in there crying? Does he know that you spent hours staring at his picture and begging God to give him back to you? Guess Dad was just too busy fixing mistakes that never worked out anyway!" she screamed.

"Cheyenne!" Now Reba was on her feet. "You think I forgot about that? You think that praying stopped? No, it didn't! And you know what, maybe I was just too busy to tell you why I wasn't screaming in my sleep anymore."

Cheyenne stared at her mother. "Why?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because there's no such thing as an unanswered prayer. And somehow, God helped me realize that I would always have Brock, and that if he wanted another chance, I better give it to him. Because he's not just a memory. And he's a good man. And I respect him for leaving me for someone who needed him a bit more than I did then. Barbara Jean was pregnant, and he wasn't gonna let him down. Even if it didn't do me any good at the time, he did the right thing. It hurt – God, it hurt – but we've both grown and changed, and I'm not scared to try again."

Cheyenne, whose tears were flooding freely now, nodded. "I'm sorry, Mom. I don't fully…understand…but you deserve to be happy."

Soon both were crying and hugging. Brock, who was gaping at the scene unfolding, shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. He never knew that Reba had spent so much time in agony over him. She'd never shown it, and soon he was holding both of them in his arms.

"But Dad," Cheyenne broke apart from them to look her father right in the eye. "You can't do what you did last time. You really owe her that."

"I know." Brock nodded.

"So, when were you planning to tell everyone?" she asked, wiping her cheeks.

"After the counseling session with Barbara Jean. We figured we'd have more answers as to what to do. Do you think that's wise?" Reba asked. She really did care what her daughter thought – even pregnant, she had been there when Reba had needed her. But more than anything, she wished they could all just forget what a mess she had been inside after the divorce.

"Yeah, it's wise. I'm pretty sure Kyra already knows something's up. She's pretty smart. The little nerd," Cheyenne added under her breath.

At the moment, Van was climbing out the car. He had been waiting the whole time, and was getting worried. Elizabeth had fallen asleep, so he pulled her out, and had just shut her door when he heard, "Van!"

He turned and saw Jake, covered in sand, walking up the driveway, wide eyed.

"Oh, did she beat you up and bury you again?" Van said sympathetically.

"Yeah – and she saw something that should be on Unsolved Mysteries," Jake babbled.

"That human skull again?" Van asked excitedly.

"No, Mom and Dad kissing!"

Vans eyes bugged out. "Do not joke, Jake. Did you see it, too?"

"Just for about five seconds, she shoved me back into sand."

"They kissed for five _seconds_?" Van was about to drop Elizabeth.

"Well, more – I was in the sand when they started, and apparently back when they stopped."

"I'm gonna have a talk with that woman!" Van and Jake hurried up the front porch.

Inside, Reba chuckled. "So, I guess the only ones in the dark now are Van and Jake and Elizabeth."

The door flew open, and Van and Jake started at the cuddling exes, a crying and smiling Cheyenne, then at each other. In unison, both boys mouthed, "What the _heck_?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"Hey Van, hey Jake, Elizabeth asleep?" Brock smiled up at them.

The door shut behind the boys as they walked toward the rest of the family. Finally Van pointed to Brocks arm, which was wrapped tightly around Reba, and said, "Mrs. H, what happened to the no-touch restraining order?"

"Huh...?" Reba frowned, then noticed what was fishy. Looking around guiltily she slapped Brock's hand, whispering, "Play along!"

"What? OH!" Brock quickly jumped a few inches away from Reba. "Sorry, Reba was flirting with a mean sense of humor again and I decided to…pin her arms down." He lied. "Right, Cheyenne?"

"Yes, mm-hmm! That's exactly what happened! Um…here sweetie, I'll take Elizabeth upstairs," Cheyenne stood up and gently took her daughter out of his arms before starting up the stairs.

The moment she was out of ear-and-eyeshot, Van and Jake stood over Reba and Brock, arms folded, starting sternly at them.

"What?" Reba said innocently.

"Oh, don't play dumb with us," Van snarled. "I have eyewitness accounts – who kissed who?"

Both went a bright shade of red and said in unison, "Who kissed who what?"

"Jake, tell them what you saw." Van commanded.

"You…saw…?" Brock asked, horrified. Jake nodded.

"…Craap!" Reba growled.

"Aha! You admit it! So, what have you two to say for yourselves?" Van pressed.

"First of all, Van - me and BJ are through – we're getting a divorce." Brock began. "Second of all, I can kiss Reba and dang time I feel like it."

"Brock!" Reba elbowed him.

"What, Reba? It's not like they don't already know something's going on!" Brock defended himself.

"That doesn't mean we have to admit it!"

"We kinda already did…!"

"Oh, yeah."

"Cut the chit-chat, you two have a _lllot_ of explaining to do. Now, Dadhas said his bit. Mom_, _I do believe it's your turn," Jake ordered.

"Well…" Reba struggled for words to say, then shrugged helplessly. "Yes, we're kinda-sorta together again, BUT in my defense, he's _very_ hot!"

"Gee, thanks Reba," Brock grinned.

"Okay, Mr. And Mrs_. H-h-hot_, no flirting in court!" Van ordered. "Jake – huddle."

"What do you think?" he whispered as they turned around.

"I don't know, it's kinda…."Jake stole a glance at his parents. Looking into Van's face, he muttered, "Weird!"

"We can hear!" Reba said loudly.

"Oh really?" Van whispered.

"Really!"

"Jake, kitchen."

A few minutes later, Jake and Van were out of the kitchen. By that time, Cheyenne had come downstairs and Reba and Brock explained what they were doing.

"Mrs. H. Mr. H." Van began. "We, the other males in this family, have decided to accept your new relationship under one condition."

"Okay," Reba nodded, deciding it was better not to point out that they didn't need acceptance. "Go on."

Jake stepped forward. "Please try not to kiss around me anymore!"

Reba and Brock laughed – this whole acceptance things wasn't too difficult. "Maybe you shouldn't be spying," Reba pointed out.

"When a stupid girl whose burying you in the sand tells you that her parents are kissing, you don't think of it as spying. It's an opportunity to stand up." Jake explained.

"So, how you gonna tell Kyra?" Cheyenne asked as her husband sat next to her and brother went out the front door.

"I guess we gotta tell her somehow, we can't just expect her to understand everything." Brock admitted.

"Maybe she could…the little nerd," Cheyenne muttered the last part under her breath.

"Yeah, probably."

Everyone jumped. Kyra was standing in the door to the kitchen, drinking a soda, observing the scene.

"Kyra! How long have you been standing there?" Reba demanded, trying to sound stern but looking too nervous to be taken seriously.

"Since Cheyenne called me a nerd. The rest I could hear through the kitchen. And if you want my opinion…"

Everyone tensed. Kyra had been closest to Barbara Jean and might be even more upset on her part than Cheyenne was on Rebas. So far, her face was passive, nothing suggested she would lash out.

"It's about time, I say. You guys have been flirting nonstop for years. At least we don't have to leave everything - that should have been happening years ago - to the imagination," she rolled her eyes, taking a sip. Everyone was still waiting, and didn't make a sound.

"But I think Barbara Jean has the right to know," Kyra said firmly. "I know she'll probably take it wrong, but…I don't want her out of my life. She's my mom as much as you are," she added to Reba. "She's been one of my best friends and I don't her left out of this family. No matter how screwed up it is," she added humorously.

Reba wasn't sure how she felt about that, but then remembered that Kyra had been living with them for years now. It was understandable and healthy for her to feel that way. And it was probably the easiest way for Kyra to say she loved her. So Reba nodded and smiled.

"She does!" Brock said quickly. "She knows."

"Okay. Well, no objections. You may kiss the bride." With that, Kyra turned and was in the kitchen again.

Reba, Brock and Cheyenne stared after Kyra, jaws slightly dropped. Finally, Brock said, "I'll think I'll take her up on that offer…" and kissed Reba next to the mouth. That seemed to jolt her out of her trance, and she smiled.

"That actually went really, really easy," Reba muttered. She pursed her lips and shook her head. Standing, she added, "Something's wrong with her," and hurried into kitchen.

"Kyra, you sure you're fine with this?" she asked.

Kyra, who was reading a magazine, looked up. "Well it's wacko…but I've gotten used to it. I mean, since when has this family been an image of perfection? No family is. And if you're happy it's cool. After all, you spent years getting along with making sure everyone else was content. It's your turn."

The morning of the next counseling session was a rainy day in the middle of a sunny week. Reba took it as a bad sign as she rolled over and peered out the window by her bed, then rolled onto the floor.

"OUCH, DAMMIT!" she yelled as she landed on her elbow wrong. She lay still for minute, hoping no one had heard her swear so loudly.

Deciding that she was lucky, Reba got dressed (she'd showered the night before), did her hair and makeup the way Brock liked, and went downstairs.

She was unprepared for the glares from Van and Cheyenne.

"What?" she asked, taken aback.

"Must you wake up our child with profanity?" Cheyenne snapped. Reba blushed.

"I'm sorry – I fell out of bed!" Reba apologized. "And I'm nervous, it's bad sign for it to rain the day of our counseling with Barbara Jean."

"Oh, is that today?" Van asked innocently. Reba glared at him as she pulled the toaster out from under the counter.

"As if you haven't been constantly reminding me since Saturday," she snapped. "Please don't forget to remind our boss, though, he always pretends to forget these things, the jack-"

"Mom!" Cheyenne pointed to Elizabeth.

"…Donkey." Reba finished.

Brock picked her up a half an hour later, and Reba could tell he was nervous as well. The drive was silent except for the radio, which Reba softly sang along with. Her angelic voice kept Brock driving, kept him reminded that he wasn't alone.

When they walked in, Brock noticed that Reba was shaking. He stopped her before they entered the office.

"Reba, I want you to know, no matter what she says, no matter what he says, I'm not leaving. Nothing anyone can say will change my mind, okay?"

Reba nodded, hoping the lump in her throat would soothe quicker. "Same here, Brock. I know myself just enough right now to know that."

Smiling reassuringly, Brock kissed his one and only love on the head and turned to open the door…

THE END.

Sike! Sorry…I had to do that! I know I'm gonna get jumped…I just had to! I swear I'll update ASAP…please…don't hurt me..! This is not the end – I repeat – this is _NOT _the end!

**(Thanks for the tip in the review, Katherine 2934!)**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Quick Recap from Chapter Five-

_When they walked in, Brock noticed that Reba was shaking. He stopped her before they entered the office._

"_Reba, I want you to know, no matter what she says, no matter what he says, I'm not leaving. Nothing anyone can say will change my mind, okay?"_

_Reba nodded, hoping the lump in her throat would soothe quicker. "Same here, Brock. I know myself just enough right now to know that."_

_Smiling reassuringly, Brock kissed his one and only love on the head and turned to open the door…_

Dr. Baker was sitting at his usual seat. Barbara Jean was across from him, legs crossed and reading a magazine. She looked up as Reba and Brock entered, and gave Reba a small smile as she walked past. Reba did her best to smile without looking guilty.

"Reba, Brock, thank you for coming. Things going okay?" he asked, standing and shaking their hands.

"Yeah," Reba and Brock muttered as they sat.

"So, last week, I asked Reba to have an answer ready for this week," he turned to the read head. "Reba?"

Reba took a deep breath. This was a moment that she had been dreading. It seemed that everyone else understood…would Dr. Baker? And what if things did change – what if by the end of the counseling session they decided that they shouldn't be together again?

"My answer is yes." She said after the second it took for these thoughts to rush through her mind. She had to get it out of the way. She didn't look up, just stared into the coffee table. "I do still love him."

"There's still the fact that Barbara Jean is in the picture. Barbara Jean?"

Reba finally looked at her friend. Barbara Jean was watching Reba closely, but not as though she was upset, angry or sad. You would have thought she was staring at a stranger.

"I…it doesn't matter what I think," she burst.

"What? Barbara Jean, you're my best friend – I wouldn't be here if I didn't care what you thought!" Reba said automatically. Brock tried to giggle at the slip "best friend". This wasn't funny.

"I don't deserve to have an opinion here, I was the other woman first," she started to stand before Dr. Baker said:

"Barbara Jean, it would really help their relationship if you would be honest. Do you have something to say?"

"I don't, please, I'm happy for this – Reba, he doesn't deserve you, but I don't deserve him!" Barbara Jean stood and started pacing.

"Barbara Jean…is something wrong – besides the obvious?" Brock asked. He truly was concerned; Barbara Jean was still a big part of his life.

"No!" she snapped.

Reba could sense something as well. It wasn't like her to hide things. She usually let everything slip, she was a horrible liar. She must have really had something she didn't want to say.

"Barbara Jean?" Dr. Baker gave her a very concerned look.

Finally she couldn't hold it in. "I…I am hiding something."

Everyone tensed, as Barbara Jean took a deep breath….

--

The drive home was quieter than the drive there. Reba didn't sing, she just stared out the window. It was too much to take in, to possibly comprehend.

It seemed like years before Brock pulled into the drive.

"Wanna come in?" Reba asked. From the pleading look in her anxious eyes, Brock knew this was a request he had to obey.

"Of course. This is one thing it wouldn't be good for the kids to find out on their own."

Inside, Cheyenne peered through the window. "Here they come!" she gasped, and hurried to sit between Van and Jake on the couch. Kyra was in the armchair facing the door, Elizabeth was upstairs asleep.

"How do they look?" she asked.

"Bad," Cheyenne murmured nervously. "Shh!" she added as the door opened. Van, Cheyenne and Jake stared at the television.

"Hi…!" Van said, trying to sound innocent. Reba and Brock exchanged a 'Oh, just great' look and Reba said, "You can stop trying to pretend to watch anything."

"Really?" Jake asked excitedly.

"How did you know we were faking? Was Kyra not trying hard enough – I knew you weren't look at the screen!" Cheyenne accused.

"It wasn't on, Elle Woods." Kyra rolled her eyes.

"…Oh." Cheyenne blushed as Reba sat in the armchair across from Kyra and Brock sat on the arm of the couch. "So…how'd it go?'

"Well, we got plenty figured out…" Brock said. "I should be getting divorce papers in a couple of days."

"So she's okay with you and Mom?" Cheyenne pressed.

"Yes. She is. She wants us both to be happy…"

"That's not the Barbara Jean I know – that's Mrs. H when she's terribly jealous!" Van said accusingly. Reba glared at him.

"She's also pregnant," Brock added.

Everyone's jaw dropped.

"Dad, you're just gonna leave your child fatherless?" Cheyenne gaped.

"That's the thing. It's not my child."

The silence seemed to fall from the ceiling and stay for the next five minutes. No one made a sound, just stared in different directions and fidgeted a little.

"Does she know whose it is?" Kyra finally asked. Brock nodded.

"Yeah, but we didn't ask."

"Good," Cheyenne breathed. "But she'll still be around, right?

"Yes!" Reba said, as though to agree to anything otherwise was crazy.

"Since when do you care, Mom?" Jake rolled his eyes.

"Jake, Barbara Jean is my best friend, I won' t let her go through this alone!"

Everyone stared at her. Finally Van whispered, "Oh my God she's possessed."

"What do you mean?" Reba frowned.

"Reba, you just said that Barbara Jean is your best friend – again," Brock muttered.

"What…? I did…? Gosh, why does that keep slipping?" Reba smacked herself in the forehead.

"So, is she gonna move in or something?" Kyra asked, hiding a smile behind her hand.

"I would like to have her do so, but Dr. Baker thinks it might make things harder between the three of us. She's gonna tell me if she wants to next session," Reba explained.

"What about you, Dad?" Cheyenne asked. "Are you gonna move in?'

"We decided that even if Barbara Jean doesn't move in, I shouldn't. Not until I've convinced everyone I'm here to stay."

"I believe you!" Jake said abruptly.

"So do I. It's the therapist that doesn't, and he's right to want us to move slowly," Reba said.

"Is he moving in, too?" Van frowned. "Cause if he is and Mr. H isn't, that means that he'll be in with Reba…and….oh God I'm suddenly nauseous…!"

"Van!" Brock groaned.

"Cheyenne, I'm too far away again – can you..?" Reba said loudly, glaring at Van.

"Sure." Cheyenne slapped Van upside the head.

"What, I was just – "

"Van, just shut up."

"Fine!" Van threw his hands in the air, utterly annoyed.

"Mom," Kyra said quietly. "I think I want to go see Barbara Jean today, do you know where she's staying?"

"Yeah, she said that she was at the Holiday Inn. Go easy on her, Kyra, she's being really hard on herself."

"Please, I'm not that bitter," Kyra rolled her eyes and stood. "Cheyenne, wanna come?"

Cheyenne's head shot up, and her eyes grew large. "You…want to know if I can go somewhere with you?" she beamed and jumped up.

"Yes!" she grabbed Kyra by the arm and pulled her out of her chair and towards the door. "Then I'll take you to the mall-"

"Cheyenne, first off, I'm driving. Second, this is supposed to be a depressing trip." Kyra stopped her.

"But only as long as we're with Barbara Jean, then we can have some sister quality time!" Cheyenne beamed hurried out the door, yelling, "Okay, you drive, but please take the long way!"

Kyra shook her head as she pulled her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her keys.

"Kyra, that's so nice of you," Reba smiled at her daughter.

"Yeah. I figured with all the crap going on anyway, why shouldn't I be nice?" Kyra smirked, blew a kiss and was gone.

"Wait – if Kyra's all of a sudden nice, who'll I fight with?" Jake whined.

"Well, Jake," Van turned to his brother-in-law. "That's life. C'mon, let's go see that movie I wanted to see with Cheyenne before she went all parenting on me."

"Cool!" The two jumped up and headed for the door.

"Van, wait – what is this movie rated?" Reba stopped Van just short of the door.

"Don't worry Mrs. H. With the PG-13 content in this house, Jake shouldn't even feel violated."

Reba couldn't help but laugh as they slammed the door behind them and were gone. Smiling up at Brock, she asked, "So, what would you like to do today?"

Brock shrugged. "I'm not sure if I really wanna do anything."

"That's okay. I understand. Wanna just sit around and talk or something?"

So they each grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch. He put his arm around her and she cuddled close, her legs bent up beneath her. They sat quietly for a few moments, lost in thoughts and just enjoying the time alone.

Finally Brock asked, "Do you think…?" But broke off.

"What, Brock?" Reba asked.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"Brock, you suck at lying worse than Cheyenne when she's lost my earrings. Now what it wrong?"

"Please, Reba, you aren't the right person to ask."

"Brock, that sounds dangerous, you can ask me anything and you better ask me – NOW." She glowered threateningly.

"Look, I'm just a little bit curious about when Barbara Jean became pregnant," he sighed.

"…Oh. Well, I think I remember her mentioning a guy after the separation…but only once. And it seemed like just another crush," Reba confessed. "Don't worry, Brock. I doubt it was while you two were still married."

"It's no more than I deserve," Brock pointed out, shamefacedly.

"Please, please don't say that," Reba sighed.

"It's true."

"Yes, but it's the past. You didn't deserve it from her. Now, if I left you and got knocked up, that would make us even. But I don't wanna!" Reba smiled.

Brock laughed a little. "I guess it doesn't really matter anymore. Maybe it could have, but our marriage was a mistake."

"Do you miss her, Brock?" Reba asked, preparing for the worst.

Brock shook his head. "No…not like I need her. I don't love her, she's just a friend now."

"Does it bother you?" Reba suddenly changed her tone from understanding to worried.

"What – no, I want to just be friends."

"No – that she and I are…" she gritted her teeth. "…best friends."

Brock couldn't hold back laughter. "I've got no problems with it, I think it's fine. But it'll be awhile before I stop cracking up every time you say that."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

A fortnight later, Barbara Jean and Brock were divorced and she was living with Reba. She stayed in the spare bed in Kyra's room, and moved Henry's bed into Jake's.

Reba was scared, but that didn't stop her from wanting to help. She was still her sarcastic self to Barbara Jean, but very hospitable. No favor was too big, and she didn't complain once.

Barbara Jean and Brock were still a little awkward. They avoided each other for the most part, but neither held hard feelings for the other.

Reba and Brock continued to spend every free moment in each others time. They were still the best part of each others day, and things seemed to be going well in this pieced-together happy home.

Until one day when Barbara Jean was two months along. She was showing, and was actually very excited at the prospect of another child.

She and Reba were sitting on the couch, Barbara Jean knitting, Reba reading a novel. The doorbell rang and before Reba could get up to answer, Barbara Jean said, "No, Reba, you stay there I'll get it!" and made her way up to the door.

Reba knew something was wrong the moment she heard the door open and heard Barbara Jean gasp.

"P-Paul," she stuttered. Reba looked up. There was a rather attractive man standing at the door. He was muscular, and taller than Barbara Jean. He was, in fact, rather menacing.

"Can I come in?" Paul said in a low voice.

"Um.." Barbara Jean looked nervously back at Reba, who was on her feet, walking to the door.

"Who are you?" Reba tried not to sound rude, but she didn't like the way this man seemed to intimidate her friend.

"My name is Paul, I'm a friend of Barbara Jeans," he stepped inside. His face was a frozen carving of wood, not smiling, not changing expression. The door shut behind him.

"So…how are you?" Barbara Jeans arms were tight around her stomach, as though her arms were crossed. Reba understood the gesture.

"You must be Reba," Paul finally tore his eyes away from Barbara Jean and looked at Reba. "Would you mind giving me a moment alone with Barbara Jean?"

"Yes, I would, if you don't take that look off your face." Reba wasn't scared in the least of this guy. She didn't like him at all.

Paul stared at Reba, his eyebrows pulling together. Reba stared back, equally determined.

Finally Paul smiled. Almost all of his anger seemed to dissolve, but his eyes were still mean. "I'll be nice if you are, Reba."

Reba scowled deeper. "Five minutes. Then you're leaving."

Paul nodded as Reba started for the kitchen. Before she disappeared, she turned back to them and made signal "I got my eyes on you," saying, "I'm watching you."

Of course she was, but Paul didn't believe her. The hatch was closed, but she opened it just enough to be able to see what was going on.

Paul had his arms folded and was speaking in a low voice. Barbara Jean wasn't looking at him, but staring at her feet, her arms still tightly around her stomach.

Their voices started to rise, and Reba understood what they were saying now.

"You told me to stay out of your life, now you come into mine just as things are getting better, Paul?"

"Your pregnant, things aren't gonna get better unless you get rid of it," Paul growled.

"I'm keeping her!"

"What – you can't raise a child alone!"

"I'm _not _alone!"

"Oh, yeah. You're EX husband and his EX wife! You think either of them even like you? After what you did to both of them?"  
Paul was yelling now.

"That's none of your business-"

Paul slapped her on the face. Her hands flew to her mouth, and he took advantage of the absence of her hands there to sock the wind out of her.

Reba covered her mouth. Then the anger started boiling and she was flying out into the living room.

Paul didn't notice her coming up to him. With one blow she socked him in the eye. He stumbled backward, taken by complete surprise.

"Leave!" Reba ordered, throwing the door open. Paul just stared at her, still with one hand to his eye.

"OUT!" she yelled. "Before I call the police!"

Paul didn't waste another second. He was out. He tried to turn around and say something, but Reba slammed the door in his face and locked it.

Barbara Jean was shaking, clutching her stomach again. Reba turned to her and asked, "Barbara Jean, are you okay?"

Soon she was hugging her friend, who was crying uncontrollably. "R-Reba, he told me h-h-e wants me to have an abortion, but I don't want to, I just can't!"

"You don't have to, Barbara Jean, he left you, he can't make you do anything." She held her at arms length. "Did he hurt you? Are you feeling okay?"

"Just…shaky."

"C'mon, let's sit down." Reba led her to the couch and asked, "Can I get you anything?"

"Iced water…" Barbara Jean hiccuped.

She was calmed down after about an hour, by which time Jake and Kyra were home from school. Reba had explained the whole thing, and they all worked on trying to comfort her. Soon Van and Cheyenne were home and they heard everything as well.

"Wow, what a jerk!" Cheyenne breathed. "Wait until Dad hears."

"I called him at work. He's on his way," Reba sighed.

"Won't he be pissed," Kyra shook her head, sipping her glass of soda. "Good job beating him up, Mom."

"Yeah, you da man," Jake grinned.

Reba glared at him as she said, "Thanks, Kyra. But if he'd seen me coming up to hit him I wouldn't have had a chance. I'm just glad he was trying to beat up Barbara Jean at the time."

Barbara Jean, who had been quiet for two whole minutes, slowly turned to Reba. Reba covered her mouth.

"That came out wrong – I meant-"

"It's okay, I know what you meant, don't worry," Barbara Jean sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. "I'm more worried about him hitting my stomach…"

"He hit the baby?" Van yelled. "That's it, I'm gonna _kill_ him!"

"Don't - it wasn't too hard, see?" Barbara Jean lifted up her shirt just enough so they could see her belly button. Cheyenne's hand flew to her mouth, Kyra's jaw dropped, Jake's eyes bugged out, and Van gasped, "OH MY LORDY!"

A purple bruise was forming, large and misshapen, on Barbara Jean's stomach. It looked awful.

Reba was on her feet. "Barbara Jean, where does he live? C'mon, Van, we're gonna KILL him!!"

They had both started for the door when it opened. Brock and Reba bumped face first again and she automatically hugged him, anger soothing. "Hey, honey, how are you?'

"I'm fine – Reba, where's Barbara Jean?"

"What? Oh – OH I'M GONNA KILL HIM!" Reba tried to start out the door with Van again but Brock closed it.

"BJ? How are you doing?"

"Well, I feel better, now I'm just scared!" Barbara Jean whimpered. "What if he comes back?"

"Then me and Mrs. H just might get our wish," Van said, giving Reba a double-hi-5.

"What if it's at night?" she whimpered again.

"Barbara Jean, you sleep in my room. I have three base guitars, two acoustics and two electric's." Kyra rolled her eyes. "Not to mention three sets of spare drum sticks. We're armed."

"Plus Mrs. H and I will be standing guard outside your door," Van added.

"With guns," Reba assured her.

"No, we're gonna call the police!" Brock corrected them.

"Have they got 7 guitars, six lethal sticks, an ex-football player and a mean red-head?" Van challenged.

"Listen, Van, we can't take this into our own hands, the police have got to know!" Brock insisted.

"Look, Brock, your right to a point. We can't kill the bast-"

"Mom!" Cheyenne pointed to Jake.

"…The…bad person," Reba controlled herself. "But I told him that if he came around again we'd call the cops. That should hold him off. And he won't be able to hurt Barbara Jean or the baby."

"Hello? I think he's already hurt both of them! Barbara Jean has got a bruise on her belly the size of Texas!" Cheyenne exclaimed.

"What – he punched her in the stomach? Reba, we've got to call the police now!"

"Only if he comes around again!" Reba said flatly, and no one argued with that tone.

Later that night, Reba was up in bed. She hadn't even gotten undressed yet, just sat on top of the pillows. She couldn't sleep knowing that Paul knew where Barbara Jean was. He'd probably guessed that she would be wherever Reba was and come there when he'd found nobody at her old house.

Reba was frightened. Frightened for Barbara Jean, the baby, and she was still trying to figure out how to get Brock back into her life permanently.

This was just another thing that would come before their relationship. Why did Barbara Jean getting pregnant always seem to do that?

She wanted to marry Brock again, to grow old with him just as she had always planned. She knew it was on his mind as much as hers, but wondered why he wasn't scared.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," Reba said, thinking it was Barbara Jean. She often came in for a few minutes just to talk to Reba, who was always willing to listen.

To her surprise, Brock, fully dressed, opened the door. He gave her a small smile as he shut the door.

"What are you doin' here at this time?" Reba asked, but smiling and patting the space beside her.

"I was worried," Brock sighed, sitting and putting his arms around her.

"Don't worry, Barbara Jean is in a full house," Reba assured him, returning the embrace.

"It's not her I'm worried about. You're the one who threw punches," Brock reminded her.

"So he'll stay away from me"

"That's what I keep trying to tell myself, but it's not so easy to believe when I know a man got a good look at your angry side…which is rather alluring," Brock kissed the top of her head. Then he looked into the eyes of the angel he so desperately wanted and needed.

Reba smiled back up at him, blushing, but then looked away.

"What's wrong?" Brock had never seen that look in her eyes before. It was burning a hole through her eyes, it was deep. Was it anger? No, he'd seen every look she had for that. Was it happiness? No, it looked to painful. Was it…regret?

"Why me?" Reba whispered.

"What?"

"Why me? How did I get so lucky – I know how much I love you, and you say you love me and I truly believe it…but I just don't know why?"

Brock sat stunned for a minute, then laughed a little. Was that it? "Why? You mean, why am I so in love with you? Must I spell it out? Reba, your…"

He struggled to find the word that would summarize everything she was. Beautiful, oh VERY beautiful, stunning, kind, ridiculously cute when she was mad, fiery, forgiving, loving, more precious than anything God had put on the earth…

She looked up at him after a few moments of quiet while he thought. "What?"

"…Reba." He settled with.

"What?"

"No, I can't find any other word – you're just…you , and with that its your everything I've ever wished I could have. And you forgave me, Reba, and you're giving me another chance. How could anyone not fall in love with you?"

Reba felt tears starting to take over. A thousand times she had wondered that same question she'd asked, even when they were married, but never asked it. She was glad she had waited; now he had a better answer built up.

"Wow." She said finally.

"Yeah, wow," Brock agreed. "So, why me?"

Reba frowned in deep thought, then understood. "Because…you did fall in love with me. And not so many people can see the good parts of me, heck I barely can, but you do. And with you…it's so easy. It shouldn't be…but it is. And you were my friend when nobody was…don't you remember? I moved here and didn't know anyone until you."

"Say, why did you come and talk to me?" she asked suddenly. "You were at that bar and I was way on the other side with nobody and you just broke away form your friends, what was that about?"

"That was the smartest move of my life, I saved you from all the other guys checking you out," Brock grinned.

"Oh, yeah right," Reba rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm serious! My buddies Ted and Michael were throwing back shots like crazy trying to get the courage to ask you to dance. I thought they were wrong about seeing a new hot face because they'd had so much to drink…but on my way out I saw you and pretty much floated over there."

Reba giggled. "Well I saw you and knew I was looking at that handsome guy my daddy warned me about. And here we are," she sighed.

They were quiet for a few minutes as Brock ran his fingers through her hair, taking in everything about her. She was wearing a blue shirt that he knew was the color of her eyes. Her perfect legs were sheathed in jeans that he knew she wore on days off. She thought of them as comfort jeans, but he could still see the perfect curves of her legs etched against them.

"Are you tired?" he asked suddenly. "Am I keeping you awake?"

But she made no reply. As he looked into her face he saw her eyes closed and she was breathing deeply in his arms, asleep.

Kissing her forehead, Brock held her a little tighter, and it wasn't long before he too was fast asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

It seemed like another normal day for the Hart family today. Barbara Jean was five months along, Jake was practicing to beat up a little girl, Van was sneaking in a little extra time to sit in his car rather than work, Cheyenne was looking at a Gucci catalog and having fantasies, Reba was working and planning to yell at Van, and Brock was trying to find a way to propose to Reba.

He wanted it to be something private. His first plan had been to take her for a walk on the beach, but it was the wrong tide for that. He thought about flowers, but couldn't decide what he would do with them. Set them on the table? But he wanted to put Reba there if they were in the kitchen.

He had a ring picked out and in his pocket. Diamonds 3.5 cm wide were set halfway around a silver band (A.N. - Can you tell I'm online looking at Tiffany's catalog?) He couldn't wait to see how it looked on her.

Finally, after struggling with nerves and romantic-block for over an hour, he decided to talk to Van. He just hoped he wouldn't see Reba while there, or he might just lose control and yell it.

He went around the back of the house and opened the door to their office. "Van, I have a question about Re-"

To his surprise, he saw the lovely red-head that he was in love with look up and smile. "Hi, Brock! Need something?" she smiled and got up, expecting him to come over and at least hug her, but he just stood there, frozen.

"Uh, did you say you need Van? He claimed to be working but he's sitting with Rhonda," Reba rolled her eyes, laughing a little.

Brock nodded, said, "Thanks – I gotta go…" and he left, slamming the door.

Reba stayed standing, confused. What was he so worked up about? Sighing she sat down to finish her paper work. He had been acting odd lately, ever since Paul had last come around and they'd called the police on him. Brock now knew for sure that Reba could stand up for himself, so what was his problem? It drove her nuts that he was keeping something from her that was so hard on him!

Out in front of the garage, Van was singing a song to Rhonda.

"You make my life so sweet…your are so lovely on the street…I'm so glad that we did meet…your so…oh. Hi, Mr. H," he murmured, embarrassed.

"Hey Van, look I've got a problem."

"Well, sit on down with me and Rhonda and get it off your chest," Van offered, gesturing to the passenger seat. Brock opened the door and sat.

"I'm trying to find a way to…buckle down and propose to Reba," Brock confessed, shutting the door.

"Really?" Van asked, excited. "This'll be great – how you gonna do it?"

"That's the problem, I don't know! I was hoping you might have an idea," Brock sighed.

"Oh…well, I find the easiest way is to get her pregnant," Van shrugged. "In my experience, anyway."

"Van!"

"Okay, um…have you thought about asking her while on a date?"

"No, I want it to be more private," Brock said, shaking his head.

"But isn't that what your proposal was like the first time? Maybe you should shake things up a bit – prove how much you really want her by making it public."

Brock nodded. "That's a good point, Van, you know it always seemed like I wasn't public about our relationship."

"That didn't stop you from flirting with each other 24/7," Van pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"Wait – she flirted with me a ton more than I flirted with her!" Brock laughed.

"Yeah right, okay Mr. H, back to this whole proposing deal. I think you should take her out on a date then pop the question. Make it somewhat private, but not secretive."

"Well I'll think about it…but I'll make it a little more surprising than that," Brock agreed. "Thanks for the help, Van." With that he got out of the car.

"Oh, Mr. H!" Van called. "Could you hand me that rag and disinfectant spray in the glove box?"

Brock rolled his eyes but obliged his son-in-law. Van began spraying the seat up and down with the spray, wiping it down.

"There you go Rhonda, nice and clean!" Brock heard Van say as he walked into the house.

"Hey, Dad!" Cheyenne smiled from the couch as she read a magazine. "Mom's out in the garage working."

"I know – hey, Cheyenne," Brock began suddenly, struck by a sudden idea. He sat down with his daughter. "I'm trying to think of a way to propose to your Mom."

Cheyenne's eyes grew huge, she dropped her magazine and started jumping up and down, still sitting. "OH MY GOSH SERIOUSLY?"

"Yeah, I'm really gonna do it, but I'm not really sure how I should. I have the ring and everything, I've been carrying it around all week."

"Can I see it?" Cheyenne begged.

Brock looked over both shoulders and said, "Okay, but Shh!" he whispered and slowly pulled it out.

Cheyenne gasped and whispered, "Oh, it's so, so, _so_ beautiful, Dad! She'll love it!"

"Thanks, I hope so," Brock said, putting the ring-box back into his pocket. "But how do I give it to her?"

Cheyenne thought for a minute. It wasn't what she was best at, but she had a very romantic mind. Then her eyes lit up. "Date! Take her on a date and propose!"

"That's what I'm planning to do…it's as far as I've gotten. I need some spice to add over it!" Brock insisted.

Cheyenne took this the wrong way. Clearing her throat she lowered her eyes modestly and murmured, "Dad…do you need someone to go to Victoria's Secret with you? If you want I can tell you her sizes and you can go alone…"

"Oh, c'mon! I already know her sizes!" Brock rolled his eyes.

"You do?" Cheyenne wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disgusted.

"Cheyenne – back to the problem at hand. I need to make this proposal special!" Brock begged.

"Okay, okay. Um…I think you should take her for a boat ride on the river," Cheyenne decided.

"Hey, that's a great idea!" Brock said excitedly. "But…do you think she'll get suspicious?"

"N-oh…uh, she probably will," Cheyenne admitted. Then she gasped. "But not if everyone comes! Look, you leave us on the shore \ and take her out to run the boat out of gas before it's time to go – it's pretty much the last time you can take it out this year, anyway," Cheyenne pointed out.

"Good thinking, thanks, Cheyenne!" Brock beamed. "That's just what I'll do – I'll see if she wants to go this Saturday."

Everyone but Reba knew exactly what was going to happen on Saturday. When it came, everyone was trying to make everything perfect. Jake and Van had washed the boat (A.N. – Yes we are going to pretend that Brock has a boat  ), Kyra had threatened her band into changing the practice time, and Barbara Jean was bringing her body pillow. She was rather big now.

At the river, things were going well. Brock was extremely nervous but staying calm enough on the outside to fool Reba. He kept putting his hand in his pocket to make sure the ring was there, though.

Soon Jake asked to go tubing. It was his third time that day. The ring had almost flown out in a weak moment the last time.

"Sure – go ahead and get it ready, I'll be right there," Brock said, thinking fast. "Uh, Van," he muttered. "Hold this while I'm out there." He slipped him the box behind the picnic basket.

Van tucked the box in his shirt pocket. Before long Elizabeth came up and yelled, "TAG!" hitting him in the shoulder. He laughed and quickly got up to chase her.

As Cheyenne watched with amusement, she saw the tiny box fall. She frowned and got up to retrieve it. Recognizing it at once, she tried without luck to put it in her mini-shorts pockets. After a moment of blonde-thoughts processing, she stuck the box between her bikini-cups, underneath her tank top.

But after five minutes of no Van, the box started to cause problems. Extremely uncomfortable, Cheyenne whisepered, "Kyra!"

Kyra looked up from her book. "What?" she whispered.

After casting a glance at her mom and step-mom, who were having a conversation about how the second child is always an easier pregnancy than labor, Cheyenne put her hand down her shirt.

"EW! Cheyenne, why would you stuff in a swim suit?" Kyra yelled, shielding her eyes.

Reba glanced over at them . "Cheyenne, are you stuffing Kleenex again?" she accused. Barbara Jean snickered.

"NO!" once they had looked away, Cheyenne glared at Kyra and pulled out the box. "This is Mom's ring – Dad gave it to Van and Van dropped it and it can't stay in my shirt much longer or I'll get dents!"

"Am I suppose to touch it now?" Kyra complained, staring at the box as though it were a rat with a highly contagious disease.

"Kyra!" Cheyenne begged.

"All right, fine!" she took it and slipped it beneath the towel she was leaning on.

"Thanks – look, here's Dad!" Cheyenne cheered.

Sure enough, Brock was pulling up to the dock with the boat. Jake, his hair a haystack, stepped out and hurried to his mother.

"Mom, the inner tube's popped, so Dad says would you like to go for a spin in the boat with him to run out the gas?" he recited.

"Sure – may as well," Reba stood and hurried her way over to the dock.

Brock tried to control his nerves as he watched her walk toward him. She looked amazing right now, dressed in green spaghetti-straps and white capris. Her hair was falling around her shoulders, curly and wind-blown.

"Hey!" she smiled and climbed into the boat, giving him a tight hug. He returned it then started up the boat again.

On shore, everyone exchanged an excited glance and squealed in excitement. Then Cheyenne gasped.

"Oh, no! Kyra – Dad doesn't have the ring!"

"Crap – this is horrible! Jake – go make them stop!"

"NO!" Barbara Jean objected. "That would make it obvious – are you sure he doesn't have it?"

"I have it right here, see!" Kyra exclaimed, taking out the box and opening it.

To everyone's horror, however, nothing was there.

Out on the river, Brock had driven them way out of eyeshot. From the shore, you would have seen only a small white block on the water.

Reba, who was sitting next to him, asked, "What made you want to go out on the river today, Brock?"

Brock took a deep breath, but before he could answer, the boat stopped.

"Uh-oh…" he breathed.

"We're out of gas?" Reba guessed. He nodded.

"Got a cell phone handy?" Brock asked.

"Yeah…but while we're out here.." Reba smiled slyly and pulled him close for a kiss.

Brock couldn't resist. He put his hand behind Rebas neck and lower back to bring her in closer. She could kiss like absolutely no one in the world.

But he knew what needed to be done now. Slowly pulling away, he said, "Wait."

Reba pooched her lips into a pout. "Why?"

Brocks jaw almost dropped. He'd just slipped his hand into his pocket expecting to find a ring box, but instead he felt nothing. It hit him – he'd given it to Van!

But something was there…what was it? The ring! It must have fallen and into his pocket!

Slipping down onto one knee he looked a surprised Reba in the eyes. They started to tear over as she noticed the gesture.

"This is why?" she managed.

He held up the ring. "Before you get mad, look at the shiny ring…" he persuaded, holding it up. Reba's eyes grew larger as she stared at it, aghast, and she covered her mouth.

"Marry me?"

Reba just nodded, tearing her eyes away from the ring and looking into his eyes. Then she moved her hand behind his neck and lowered herself next to him on her knees, bringing him in for another passionate kiss.

A.N. – So, what do ya think? I'm not really sure what to put in the last chapter, so if you have unanswered questions I could answer them there. Message/ Review please!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Reba stared back at herself in the long mirror. She felt more beautiful, loved, and scared than she'd ever felt in her life. Her white chiffon dress fell to her knees, and her hair (A.N. – in this story, by the way, Rebas hair is about halfway down her back. She styles it similarly to the show.) was spiraling down her back in rich color.

I can't believe I'm getting married…again…Reba thought. She knew she should be nervous, but she found herself almost calm. But scared. Like she knew what she was facing…and that the best was yet to come.

There was a knock at the door. Cheyenne and Van entered, both with upset looks on their faces. When she saw Reba, Cheyenne immediately started tearing up.

"Mom…Mom…you look…beautiful!" she wept in Van's shoulder. Van's chin started trembling and he put his arm around Cheyenne.

"Thanks…but what's wrong?" Reba asked, concerned.

Van and Cheyenne exchanged a nervous look before the former spoke. "Your Mom and Dad just called. They…can't make it."

"What?" Reba shrieked. "But they promised! Why aren't they coming?"

Cheyenne started to cry harder. Van bit his lip.

"They're hurt?! Oh no!" Reba gasped.

"No…no! It's nothing like that!" Van assured her.

"Than what?"

Van stared at his polished shoes. "Your Dad said he won't come and watch you get married to Mr. H again."

"I thought he was okay with Brock, he said it himself, he can't stay mad at him!"

"Mom," Cheyenne finally spoke, wiping her eyes. "Grandma says she's re ally sorry and that she's trying to cool him down. And she will – she's the only one who can. She will," she repeated, more to reassure herself more than anything.

Reba, who felt as though her heart had a knife through it, nodded sadly. "Okay…"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. Now, go ahead, go on down. I'll be there soon."

They gave her one last smile and turned to leave. Before they left, however, Van looked back at Reba.

She was standing in front of the mirror again, breathing deeply, squeezing her eyes shut and clutching her stomach.

After whispering something to his wife, Van closed the door behind Cheyenne and stayed in the room with Reba.

Opening her tear filled eyes, Reba saw that he was still there. "What, Van?" she managed.

"Um…Mrs. H, was your dad gonna do that whole 'give away' thing?" Van asked uncertainly.

"Yeah."

"Do you still need someone to do that?"

Realizing what that meant, Rebas face lit up as she turned to her son-in-law. "Oh, Van, would you…?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Van smiled and held out his arm.

A few minutes later Reba, Van at her arm, walked down the steps to the small congregation of family and friends. Brock stood there as well, staring at her as though he'd never seen anything more beautiful. Which, by the way, he hadn't.

Cheyenne's face glowed proudly at her husband with her mom. Jake shrugged and looked at Kyra, who rolled her eyes but was smiling big all the same. Barbara Jean held up a camera and clicked five pictures, beaming.

Reba smiled at Van, who winked. She looked down at her family, then Brock, and suddenly it was as though everything she'd lost had been a gain, everything she'd missed was returned. For the first time in years, she was happy.

Later that night, when Reba and Brock were at their hotel in Hawaii, they sat on the balcony in each others arms.

"Brock," Reba said.

"Hmm?"

"I'm happy."

He kissed the top of her head. "So am I."

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

"Brock?"

"Hmm?'

"Are we really here – is this really happening to me?"

"I was just about to ask that same question," Brock asked, laughing. Reba smiled.

"Really, Reba, it's not gonna disappear. Ever. I won't let go this time."

"I know." She looked up and smiled then looked back across the ocean again.

"Can you believe what we would have missed?" Brock sighed. "If we had just acted like we didn't care anymore and had forgot about each other..?"

He stopped himself with a shudder. He couldn't think about that. After not hearing anything from Reba, and worried that he may have upset her, Brock looked at her face and saw that she was, once again, asleep in his arms.

Kissing her softly, Brock held her a little closer and fell asleep listening to the rhythm of her finally happy heart.

THE END

**Hope y'all liked it! Thanx for all the reviews - love ya 4ever! My next Reba should be up soon. **


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